Have Mercy
by Microwave-Senpai
Summary: In the aftermath of the 'No Mercy' storyline, the group is left in shock. Zoey falls behind, protecting her friends, and nearly becomes zombie chow. She miraculously escapes the grasp of the horde, and swiftly makes her way to the safety of Bill, Louis, Francis and the helicopter's open cabin door when...
1. Prologue

I feel the cold breeze of the wind, swooshing past my fingertips as I miss Louis' hand by a mere few inches. Even with the fact that half his body stretches out the helicopter, no good came of it. Time stops for a brief moment. I float in midair, one side with my friends all sitting in the helicopter safe and sound, and the other were I to turn my head would witness those damn monsters, the monsters who, at one point, were just like us. Like all of us, were once human. Tens, hundreds, thousands would be overexaggerating, but god were there so many. I couldn't keep track of how many I put down after watching the hospital's rooftop begin to overcrowd with those things covering every yard.

The shock on their faces gash at my heart. Bill, Louis, Francis, I'm so sorry.

Time resumes... and I find myself slipping away from the others. The wind blows faster, and faster... and faster... and faster and faster until... I realize I'm _falling_.

I fall to my death, and fall away from the final breath I relieve as my body spins to the ground below...


	2. Quick (and illicit) Author's Note

Greetings.

This a little reminder to all readers. I understand there will be some grammatical errors in this story. I put to motion the storyboard as soon as I had the lightbulb shine over my head, so bear with me on the errors. I wrote everything before the idea faded for good. All of this is due to revisiting the first L4D game and playing through the "No Mercy" campaign, hehe.

Anyway... yeah, I'm quickly putting all of this together from the get-go. Hope you enjoy.

 _Sincerely,_ _Microwave-Senpai_

 **P.S.** I revisit my stories in time to proofread them. And eventually revise it, of course, in case you were curious. It's not exactly the most easy task when you're a one man team, so I don't have another person's perspective/view before posting etc. That's all.

 **Update** : Once this story is at its final stages, aka becomes completed, I will be getting rid of this "Chapter" for good and may never put author's notes into my stories again. Being a young, spontaneous, and most of all dense, writer means you write and do things in life by your own rules. And in doing so, you glaze over the fact that other things are maintained with certain rules that you must abide by. What I am trying to say is, I went back and read the rules of the website, you know, the ones I tend to skim through and highlight parts that aren't as important as specific tidbits, and was reminded of certain things. I'm going to carefully write what I enjoy, without going against the rules and guidelines of the Fanfiction website because I am a goody two-shoes like that. Thank you for your time and support, and reading this 'til the end.


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1** " _Suicide Mission_ "

 **Bill...**

Whether I saw it with my own eyes or not, it is still hard to believe what the boys and I just witnessed. Our comrade, Zoey, failing to reach safety alongside the rest of us, was not something I expected. We all watch, horrified and gaping with our eyes wide open, as she plummets to the ground below. Following her down was an avalanche of those infected streaming down behind her. They mindlessly fall one by one, not knowing the consequences of what they could have faced in their previous lives. However, none of that would matter anyway. Not for them now, at least.

It just kept going, the swarm of zombies falling over the edge of the hospital. I turn to look at Louis and Francis, my hand still gripping tightly on the helicopter's roof handle, to see Louis storming over to the pilot and yelling at him. That dumbass, he can't hear him, nor could we hear each other. Francis exhaustingly falls onto one of the seats lined up in the rear of the helicopter.

In that split second, I feel a tight grip around my left ankle. I snap my neck back out to the skid of the helicopter's cabin door, and notice one of the infected had clung onto the skid. It snarls at me, shaking its head in all directions like the rabid animal it was.

"Shit..!" I shouted.

I shake my leg furiously, while still holding onto the roof handle. I pull out my pistol and shoot it, watching it fall with the rest of his buddies. The bang from the handgun was loud enough to alarm the pilot and Louis, for they turn back to see what happened. I look over to them, taking my finger out and away from the trigger, and wag my firearm in front of my body, indicating I got rid of the nuisance. Louis, still frowning with fiery anger, turns back to the pilot and continues to yell at him.

The helicopter steadies as we fly further away from the hospital roof. I shut the cabin door, preventing any more wind to blow in my face every other second. I also spot a pair of headphones hanging on the hooks behind me, and place them over my head. I grab another pair and walk over to Louis, who was still preaching the bible verses to the pilot. I tap the side of his arm firmly to get his attention. Louis spins around once more, looking more aggravated. I hand him the headphones. He looks at them then back to me confusingly. I wasn't able to hear him over the helicopter rotors, but I was able to read his lips.

 _The hell is this for?_

I look over to Francis, whom got the memo and had already taken the opportunity to find a set of headphones of his own. He buckles himself in his seat and adjusts his headphones to fit his dome more comfortably.

I bring down the microphone to my mouth. First things first. I look over to the tattooed pessimist.

"Come in, Francis, can you hear me?" I said.

Francis signifies his answer with a thumbs up. I turn back to face the front.

"Bugs, do you read me? Are you in the same frequency as us, over." I said, looking over to the cockpit.

A static buzz hums in my ears.

"The name's Ledger, buddy." Said the pilot.

"Well your call sign will be Bugs from now on 'til I say otherwise, capice?" I smile solemnly.

Bugs remains facing forward and maintains control of the steering. I could hear him sigh softly behind the microphone.

Louis doesn't seem to get what's going on, as he flails his hands in front of him. He shoots his finger in one direction, and quickly shifts it to another, all while blurting out inaudible commentary.

Francis stares at Louis with a vexatious look, and yells from the back of the helicopter.

"Put on the damn headphones..!" He said, pointing his index fingers on each side of his head.

The palm of my hand introduces itself to my forehead, knowing he still didn't hear what Francis had just said. Given from Louis' blank expression, I'm pretty sure he didn't catch that.

 _What?!_ Louis screams.

I snatch the headphones from Louis' hands and slip them onto his head.

"You mind repeating what you said there?" I said in a sarcastic tone.

We fall silent for a brief moment.

"Ooh~..." Louis utters followed by a sheepish laugh.

The giggles were short-lived, as he reverts back to his unnecessary anger.

"Well, now that I know we can all hear each other," Louis side-eyes the pilot. "Turn back, land somewhere, something! We need to go back for Zoey!"

"Son, there's barely enough fuel in the engine to stay for your friend. And in case you already forgot, we just watched her fall to her death with all those other... things!"

The pilot was frantic, though I don't blame him, or any of us, really. I grab Louis' shoulder and shoo him over to Francis. He quietly listens and grumbles as he takes a seat. I lean against the back of the vacant seat across from Bugs'.

"Listen, Bugs..." I began.

"It's Ledger." He replied almost immediately.

I point the handgun at his head. "Hurry and land this thing, Bugs." I said sternly.

I notice his body stiffen from the subtle brush of the firearm on the back of his head.

"E-Easy..." He stammers.

"Alright, alright I get it..!"

He curses and flies to the nearest building with a high plain.

 **. . .**

I bring my windproof lighter close to my lips, and set ablaze my last cigarette. The clink of my lighter rings in my ear before I slip it back into my jacket pocket. I was sitting with my feet resting on the skid of the helicopter, the cabin door wide open and the others lounging around the vehicle. Wasn't sure what they were waiting for, this old man just wants a smoke in peace.

Bugs paces back and forth beside the helicopter uneasily. I found it a tad bit vexing, considering we could all breathe easy for now. Also made me wonder what's there to be so tense about. Though, I never said my thought aloud, since it's probably better to not know everything.

Francis hops out the helicopter and takes a few steps away. He sighs and takes in a deep breath before turning to me and Louis.

"So, now what?" Said Francis.

His arms held out, open for suggestions.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" I said before throwing my cigarette to the ground and stepping on it.

I follow my little trend and crumple my empty cigarette packet in my hand, throwing it over my shoulder as I walk past Francis. I approach the roof access door to check if it's unlocked. Thankfully, it was, and I crack it to see if there were any infected on the other side. Coast is clear.

I sigh then turn to the group.

"Gentlemen, we're not leaving this city until we get our team member back." I declared.

Louis and Francis gawk at me astoundingly. They look at each other and turn back to me with bright smiles of approval.

"Sounds like a hell of a good plan." Said Louis.

"Let's get going then..!" Said Francis.

I bring my hand in front of my body and stop them from coming closer.

"Hold on..." I said.

The boys look at me confusingly.

"Hey, twitchy." I shout over to Bugs.

He was still pacing around the roof, holding himself close and mumbling faintly. I frown as Bugs purposely ignores me, and walk over to him. I grab hold of his shoulder and turn him to face me.

"You alright there..?" I said, still wearing an annoyed frown.

"We..." He mutters.

"...?"

We all look at him in puzzlement.

"We were supposed to head to the next town over before the following next day!" Bugs exclaims.

"Calm down, why don't you." I retort.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Said Bugs, slapping my hand off his shoulder.

"And don't call me Bugs, dammit!"

"Geez, what stick is up his ass?" Said Louis.

"I hate sticks." Francis adds.

I look over to the two stooges with my eyebrows heavily slanted.

"Not now guys!" I grumble.

I turn back to Bugs while pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"Listen," I began, holding his shoulders. "Depending on how quick we can all cooperate, this won't take too long."

He looks down at his feet silently. I take that as a sign of him calming down and listening.

"Just come with us to find our friend, and we can all come back and leave together." I said in a cool manner.

Bugs shakes away from my hold and draw back a few steps.

"No way, I ain't going nowhere." Said Bugs.

Before I could add anything else, he trots over to the helicopter and enters it.

I scratch the back of my head, and sigh with my mouth shut. After clarifying a few things with our pilot, I think, I return to Louis and Francis' side.

"Alright, we're heading out."

The two banter with glee and excitement as I smirk with determination.

"But..." I utter.

The guys quickly look back to me with bewildered expressions.

"Whether Zoey is alive or... I can't say for sure. But we gotta try, and if we find her dead, we can at least give her peace."

Louis and Francis look to each other anxiously, knowing damn well anything goes in this zombie infested world.

I abruptly point my finger to Francis.

"You're staying here." I said firmly.

Louis raises a surprised brow, followed by looking over to Francis who's elation dies from hearing that. He gapes at me agitatedly.

"What?!" He shouts.

"Let me clarify. Louis and I will go find Zoey, while you stay here and watch over our friend." I said.

"Why do I have to play babysitter?!" Francis retorted.

"Because, out of the two of you, I'm keeping the black guy to make sure he won't die first."

Silence falls over our conversation as Louis and Francis stare at me with perturbed frowns.

"...Not sure if I should be offended or flattered from hearing that." Said Louis.

I make haste with the lack of voting or listening to whims and walk to the helicopter. I poke my head inside and see Bugs sitting in the pilot's seat. He holds himself again, rubbing his arms gently.

"Hey Bu..." I sigh. "—Lester."

He slowly turns his head.

"...It's Ledger." He said.

"Awesome. You said this baby is low on fuel, right?"

He pauses for a moment then nods to me.

"Okay. What engine is this helicopter running on?" I ask.

Bugs ponders with himself.

"I believe a piston engine..."

"So it runs on diesel?" I said.

"Most likely."

I nod to Bugs with acknowledgement.

"Thanks." I said.

I walk away from the helicopter and once again find myself standing in front of the two stooges. I beckon the two to come closer. We huddle ourselves into a circle.

"Alright ladies..." I said.

"We're going to get two things. The first, and most important, is Zoey. The other is fuel, some diesel, for the helicopter. Francis will stay here and watch over our ride, as well as keep Bugs in check while Louis and I make our way down to the streets."

"Why am I Bugs anyway..?" Said Bugs over from the helicopter.

"Because you're not good enough to be Tweety! You puttycat!" Francis exclaims over our heads annoyingly.

"Ugh, just hurry and go!"

Louis chuckles at Francis' frustration, and I nod to them while fixing my beret.

"Gentlemen, our suicide mission begins now." I said.

"We'll be back soon, Captain Boomerang."

With a quick salute, I swiftly turn around and head to the roof access door. Louis follows closely behind me, and Francis flips me off behind my back. I turn the knob of the door and open it. Still no sign of any infected. I turn the lights to my handgun on and enter the building descending the first flight of stairs. I look over my shoulder every other second to check on Louis.

Several minutes pass and we finally reach ground level. I spot the emergency exit, carefully push it and poke my head out. It was clear.

I slip back into the building, leaning against the wall and cocking my gun. Louis holds his submachinegun close to his chest, and takes off its safety. We look at each other as I softly push open the door again.

"You ready, Harley..?" I mutter.

Louis tilts his head back and rolls his eyes.

"Really?" He snapped.

I smirk at him and jump out into the alley. He stays close to my side. We simultaneously scan the area and aim our weapons in different directions. With no sign of any infected, we begin to move to the quiet streets.

"I mean," Louis said as we kept jogging. "Shouldn't I be Deadshot or something..?"

I look over my shoulder. "Keep whining and you'll be demoted to Jewelee."

"Alright, damn!" Said Louis.

He mutters under his breath. "Don't even know who the hell that is..."

Don't worry kid, we're coming for you.


	4. Chapter 2

**Holy balls was this chapter fucking aggravating to write. Not because it was difficult to continue the storyline, but because I kept forgetting to save my damn progress. Now, if you're wondering, I have multiple tabs open on my window, and pressing backspace is a terrible habit of mine. (Not just on my keyboard, but there's a special back button on my mouse as well) So... whenever I come back to my draft window and accidentally press backspace, I completely forget the handful of paragraphs I wrote and pull an eighth of my hair out from all that work I just lost in an instant. Remember kids, SAVE. YOUR. PROGRESS. You do not realize how important it is until you fall under bad luck and pull that oopsy. I usually save every other one and a half paragraphs btw.**

 **Chapter 2** " _Warm Bodies..?_ "

 **Zoey...**

What's going on? Can I think after I'm dead..? I suppose...

Or maybe, I should try opening my eyes. That was a bad choice, for I open them to see a damned infected staring widely at me, its face centimeters away from my own. I grow pale, but quickly calm myself. I soon notice I have immense difficulty moving my limbs, and what's more, butter face and I weren't alone. His friends surround us, clustering together and putting me in the middle of it all. What am I, a Zoey sandwich?

It seems I miraculously survived the fall from Mercy Hospital's rooftop, and landed in this enormous pile of zombie guts. It was difficult not to throw up from the rancid stench. Not to mention I don't want any of this crap in my mouth. I pull through, and wriggle out from my bloody grave. I claw through ligaments, body parts and spoiled intestines. From the depths of a dim burrow to the top of hundreds of dead bodies, I free myself from this zombie prison. I stand wearily at the top of mount apocalypse, my hand holding my injured arm, faintly inhaling a deep breath of vitality, my second chance of sorts.

I look around the vast empty streets, splattered in war paint of the undead, and vehicles set on fire that help light up the night. The lone sound of the wind howls through the air as I make my way down the pile of corpses. I carefully descend.

I gasp, and trip down the rest of the way. A damn zombie had grabbed my ankle and shook my leg. I tumble down to the concrete of the cracked roadway, immediately finding my balance and standing back up. Thankfully, my dual pistols were latched onto their respective holsters, and I take them out and raise them in front of me. I aim at the mountain of corpses, slowly walking back without taking my eyes off of it. Sweat trickles down my forehead, my arms begin to shake, and my breathing grows rapid. If one zombie was still moving... there's bound to be plenty others who're still active, too.

And how coincidental, as I quietly thought it to myself, dozens of the infected burst from their undead pile. One by one, their hands erupt from all the gore. It was like a scene that came straight out of a zombie movie.

"Holy shit..." I murmur.

I plan not to stay and see how many more would rise up, instead I made a run for it. I holster my guns and sprint for my life. Without looking back, I begin to hear them screeching and growling. The worst part is how it was getting closer, far quicker than I would like. I glance over my shoulder and see one reaching its hand out to me. It swipes at the air and barely misses my back. Their stamina is impressive, but being mindless is where it takes its toll.

I make an abrupt turn, ducking over the runner's lunge and tripping it over my curled body in the process. I shoot back up and make my way to the narrow alley. I elude several other attacks as I slither past the virals. Successfully reaching the alley, my eyes rapidly dart around and spot a fire-escape stairwell alongside an apartment building. Its ladder dangles gently by the end of the flight of steps, but it was too high for me to grab a hold of. Not even jumping would help make my reach achievable. Added with my pained arm, it's already something of a challenge.

I look ahead at the other side of the alleyway and see a horde blocking my path. They swiftly near me, widening their mouths with ravenous hunger. My feet skid against the ground, and stop under the ladder. I snap my neck around and see that I'm blocked off by the other horde pursuing me. I was in a pinch, and I had no choice but to try for the ladder above.

My anxiety grows with every failed attempt. My single good arm outstretched over my head and unable to take a hold of the ladder. My eyes dart left to right, watching the infected hunching down and preparing to pounce on me. Without thinking, I run toward the wall, vault with all the momentum my body could summon, and leaped off the cemented bricks. My hand swings for the ladder, and fortunately, I catch the bar. However, I caught it with my bad arm, and I let out an agonizing wail.

I endure the overwhelming pain. Those monsters were all swarming under me at this point, so letting go is not an option I had in mind. I grab hold of the ladder with my other hand and steadily lift my body. I grunt in pain and angst. Damn my sore shoulder.

As I carefully squirm through one of the hoops of the ladder, my body is pulled out by a sudden weight from my feet. My chin hits the metal bar of the ladder, making me bite my bottom lip. My pupils dilate, and my legs had no control of themselves. They were immobile. I stiffly look down and see a dumb zombie suspended on my legs. I couldn't kick as much as I would want, for he held both my ankles tightly.

I didn't want things to end like this. With one last effort, I lift as much of my body through the loop again and look down at the fucker. I pull out my handgun and carefully aim at his head.

"Get... the hell... OFF ME!" I screamed.

With a stentorian bang, and a perfect shot between its eyes, the zombie falls to the ground and lands on top of several others.

I throw my handgun onto the platform of the stairwell, followed by dragging my body over the grating. I safely rest on the metal, catching my breath and twisting my body and looking up to the starry sky.

"Fuckin' A, man." I said to myself.

The breeze on my back blows through the holes of the platform, cooling me after that intense workout. I sit up and scoot over to the building. A sigh of fatigue escapes from my lips as I lean against the bricks.

 _Now what..?_

After narrowly escaping all those infected, what am I supposed to do now? The guys are probably long gone and safety bound. And me? I'm left here for dead.

I swallow the harsh reality of the situation, putting my hand over my grieving heart. I'm all alone, and I'm not sure where to go next. Well, perhaps the next place to go is inside. The temperature is dropping and I was getting cold.

I look down at the aggressive horde and spit the blood from my lips at them. There was no satisfaction watching it hit their faces. After all, my strength deteriorates with every action I make. I was so damn tired.

Even lifting the window was a big chore. I quietly grunt as I give my all to lift the window sill. The sill creaks and gives way. I slip my arm through the small crack I had made, and used my back the rest of the process. It slides up and I enter the building left foot first. I immediately close the window behind me to prevent the cold draft from entering. I turn back to the dark vacant hallway, and am greeted with silence.

I held my body close, looking left and right. On my left were three rooms labeled down from 201-203. There was also red display case stuck vertically off the wall between rooms 202 and 203. On the right were two more rooms labeled 204 and 205. I look at both sides, repeatedly turning my head, unsure which room to frequent. Suddenly, a soft whimper can be heard. My back straightens itself and I listen for the source of the noise. It comes from the room closest to me on my right, room 204.

I approach the room door, and can hear the sound of the woman's whimper more clearly. I slide my handguns out and turn the flashlight off. With my weapons ready, I turn the doorknob with caution and poke one of my guns through the crack.

"Hello..?" I whisper.

I open the door wider, an am met with a pair of hands that grabbed my shoulders. She pushes me against the wall, and my guns slip out my hands from the impact. The zombie woman whimpers at me distortedly, staring at me with lifelessness in her eyes.

Her teeth clack with every chomp as she lunges for my face. I hold her neck while she aims for mine. I lift my knee to her gut, successfully making her let go of me. I kick her away from me and watch her stumble away. She hits the window and breaks the glass, falling onto the shards that stuck out from the window sill.

I take several steps of my own away from her, and look to my right. In the red display case was a fire axe. I scan the floor for my weapons, and see that they were near the zombie woman's feet. She continuously kicks and flails while still stuck on the teeth of the window sill.

I wear a frown and clasp my hands together. I elbow the glass of the display case with my good arm and carefully take out the fire axe. By the time I got hold of the axe, the zombie woman pulls herself out the shards. Her head hangs over one side of her body, and her breath rasps low and sadly. We trade menacing gazes as we inch closer to each other. She breaks into a sprint, and I hold out the top of the fire axe. I ram it into her face and move to the side. She falls to the ground and lands on her back. I swiftly step over her body and repeatedly bunt the top of the fire axe against her face, grunting violently with every hit. I raise the fire axe one last time, turning it to its spiky pointed end and force it down with all my might. It penetrates her skull, killing her for good.

I place the bottom of my foot on the axe blade and stomp my weight onto it. I listen, as the sharp point of the axe goes through the floor.

 _Double tap, bitch._

With a sigh of relief, I trot over to my handguns before any more pop out from the other rooms. I securely slip them back into their holsters.

Now that I know I had taken care of the source of the problem, I creep into room 204. I didn't expect much when coming into a person's apartment, but as I enter, I was shocked to see what was laying on the bed. I approach the bedside, and see a girl, no older than her mid-teens, entirely consumed from her head to her lower region. Her insides spilling out and dripping onto the floor. My hands cover my mouth in disbelief. I also notice a pink journal beside her pillow. Slowly, I reach for it. With the journal in hand, I quickly jump away from the girl in case she decides to come back to life. Though, I doubt she'll be, given the damage that's been done to her.

I walk over to the apartment room door and close it. With the bed occupied, I chose to crash on the couch and rest for a bit.

"Finally." I said with enunciation.

I breathe a very long sigh as I slide my body down and lay on the couch. I pick up the girl's journal back up and lift it to my face. The cover reads _Riley's Diary!_ in the front, and the back simply had the same design of pink and red hearts along with the bar code.

"Riley's Diary..." I murmur.

I sit upright, and open the journal. I begin to read its contents...


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3** " _Dear Diary_ "

 **Day 1**

Good morning! Today is my birthday, and I'm so happy and excited to celebrate it with my family. Mom went out to get more things for the party, and dad and Mike are hanging the piñata outside under one of the big trees. I invited all of my friends, and my crush, so I hope he comes. Fingers crossed! This is Riley signing out.

 **. . .**

 **Day 5**

A few days have passed since my birthday party. I'm sure you're wondering, whoever is reading this, why I haven't written anything since I usually write almost every single day. Well, the day after my birthday, I told my crush how I felt about him. It didn't go so well, and he avoids me now. I'm sad, and I'm hurt. I cried myself to sleep for these past couple days. I know I shouldn't be sad, but knowing that I'm the only one who feels this way makes this pain more unbearable.

I can understand if he wants to remain friends, but avoiding me and giving me disgusted looks..? That, I don't understand.

Whoever is watching over me, please forgive me for I have sinned. My sin involves having those bad thoughts of peace in death. It just hurts so much, I want it to go away.

 **. . .**

 **Day 10**

School has been cancelled again. I'm not sure why, but I'm not really complaining. Just means another day without having to see my crush's face. After all, we have three classes together, so it's hard to avoid him entirely.

Mom and dad tells me and my brother to stay inside at all times while they went to some meeting for grownups. They didn't tell us what it was about, but they firmly ordered us to stay inside, lock the doors and keep the window blinds shut. My parents being secretive scares me a little. I wonder if this has anything to do with school being cancelled...

. . .

 **Day 12**

Today was the first day of classes resuming. However, no one was prepared to witness what was to unfurl in the halls of the school today. There were nasty, smelly people all over the place. They ran around the building and bit off my classmates' faces. I was so scared, I hid in one of the classrooms with my friends. They insisted for me to check if the coast was clear, but was actually planning to use me as bait and pushed me out into the halls.

I was sad, but mostly angry. The classroom we were all hiding in had two doors. Both doors the room's length apart from each other. After shedding a few tears from my friends' betrayal, I scream as loud as I could and attracted hundreds of them.

They locked the door behind me when they pushed me out, but forgot about the other one. I lured the rabid monsters to the room door and ran away as soon as they reached it. I listened to my friends' screams and pleads for help, not looking back and ignoring the trash. Serves them right, what good friends they were, thanks for volunteering as bait, bitches.

As soon as I made it home safe, I needed to write all of this down. My feelings are still raw and intense as I'm writing this. My brother, Mike, and my parents are also home. I'm happy and relieved to have my family.

...

I almost forgot. I also saw my crush in the halls before escaping the school. He was cornered like a rat, surrounded by a horde of those things. He spotted me, and calls out my name, begging me to save him. Was it wrong of me to look at him with disgust? Was it wrong that I watched him get torn apart by the girls he always looked up and down at? Did I make the right choice by abandoning him?

 **. . .**

 **Day 1Z**

Today marks the first day of the end.

The meeting mom and dad went to involved a conference about some disease that makes us go crazy, but mostly imposing a strange hunger for each other. Back then, I think I was able to get out of school alive thanks to mom. She told me to be ready for anything, I wasn't sure what that meant at the time. And if she called me within the school day, I had permission to leave school without telling anyone, not even the teachers. Mike also made it home thanks to being involved in a lot of sports, as well as the bat he was carrying when he came back. Makes me regret not joining any physical activities.

Our house is currently well stocked, but mom and dad told us that most of the food we have need to be eaten now. That meant ice-cream, frozen foods, refrigerated food, and anything that can spoil in a week.

I binged like this before, but only when I felt deeply sad, so I wasn't entirely sure how to feel about this. I was happy binge-eating all the food served to us that night, laughing and joking with my family, but also confused why mom and dad were crying at the table. This will end soon, won't it?

I know you're not supposed to tell a single soul your birthday wish. However, maybe if others knew, they can help me achieve it in any way possible. I didn't ask for much, for my birthday, I simply wished to see my family and friends together happily. I want them to keep smiling, and to keep fighting for tomorrow.

Mom, dad, Mike, I love you all so much.

 **. . .**

 **Day 2Z**

When I woke up this morning, I didn't realize the electricity had been turned off. You would think I notice when my fan stopped whirring, and perhaps my clock could've clued me in since it's hard to miss. I guess I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

We still have enough food to last us a few weeks. Mike has been teaching me how to properly swing a bat. Meanwhile, mom and dad have been arguing about something downstairs. I can't hear them clearly, but Mike tells me to ignore it. He tries to cheer me up by telling me every now and then we'll meet up with other people and save ourselves. I quietly nod to him. I was never sure how to tell him that I already know how this outcome will play...

Later that day, I find out that mom and dad were arguing because they've confessed their secrets. Dad has been cheating on mom with our next door neighbor who lives by herself and her two pets. And mom takes out money from our family bank account and stores it somewhere. She didn't say anything else, she was too heartbroken by dad's confession. I would be sad, too. Actually, I _am_ sad. I was sad because we never started living in a messed up world, we were always a little messed up with the benefit of hiding behind our prayers.

I prayed that night, in hopes of finding a solution for our family. I want to fix this somehow.

I think I'm going to cry myself to sleep again, knowing mom and dad have no choice but to sleep next to each other, and knowing what they've done.

 **. . .**

 **Day 4Z**

Yesterday, I woke up, went downstairs and was greeted by my family first thing in the morning. I was confused. To be more specific, Dad and Mike were covered in thick cloth and protective gear Mike uses when he's playing sports.

They told me to stay with mom in the house, while they head out to find others and group up with them.

Naturally, I cried, and begged them to not leave. Mom must've already shed her own tears, for she holds me back and tells them to hurry and leave. After dad and Mike left, the house got quiet.

I stay in my room all day, either staring at the ceiling or writing down my thoughts. I lost my only friend in this world, and I'm not sure if he'll ever come back. It's only been a day, but I miss my brother and father so much. Was it my fault?

Did I do this? Was this because of my prayer to make mom happy that I lose not only my father, but Mike as well? Oh god.

I'm so sorry Mike, please forgive me. I didn't know you'd get involved.

I take my wish back. I take everything I said back. Mike, please come back home. Please come back alive...


	6. Chapter 4

**Hey, sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. I promise I've been working on it and other stories as well, but I've also been out finding resources from outdoor interaction. Call me a stalker all you want, but my observations help put pictures into words. Sometimes, all you have to do is watch. Don't think, don't imagine, just watch. Again, this could be considered borderline stalker territory, but I swear it's for good intentions. I'll shut up now...**

* * *

 **Chapter 4** " _Late Night Thoughts_ "

 **Zoey...**

I skim through several other pages before turning back to where I had stopped reading. I take the silk bookmark attached to the journal, and lay it over the written words of a dead girl.

"Poor kid..." I mutter with a melancholy expression.

I close Riley's journal and set it aside. Now that I had the time to take a breather, the next thing that pops into my head was food and water. The water was not only to drink, but I also want to wipe off this dry blood as soon as possible. I stand up from the couch and walk to the bathroom. It wasn't difficult to figure out the architecture of the apartment, seeing as there was only one way leading through a narrow hall with three doors. The smallest door contains the supply closet, the middle being the entrance to the bathroom, and the last one at the end of the hall was the bedroom. From what I can speculate, they must've moved the bed outside to the living room and had Riley sleep next to the window.

So was the woman I killed before... her mom? I'll have to keep reading and make sure. In the meantime, I begin scavenging the apartment.

I enter the bathroom cautiously. I try for the light switch, just in case. I hear the tap of the switch flipping on, but no reaction from the light bulb. I sigh, though I'm not sure what I was expecting. It's the freaking apocalypse, get it together girl. I went into action, turning and pulling every knob there was all while in this ominous dark setting. I find nothing but vacant cupboards and cabinets collecting dust, along with scanty female cosmetics here and there. To my surprise, these guys still had a few rolls of toilet paper to spare.

The supply closet was practically empty, save the single used towel and a couple medium size bag of chips I'll be conserving until I find other provisions. As much as I hate salt and vinegar, it's still food. So now is not the time to be a pussy and just take what you can get.

I leave the door of the supply closet open while slowly heading toward the bedroom. Its door was cracked slightly, and I carefully approach it with a single pistol ready at hand. I'm not going to let that shit happen twice in a row. I wait several seconds, listening to the ambience of the creaking floorboards, the outside commotion, and the orchestral debris of chaos flying through the alleys. I sought my chance and kick down the bedroom door and enter. I see one and fire a few rounds.

I immediately catch myself from going too trigger happy, and stop. My eyes widen, and I lose strength in my knees, catching my back against the wall and sliding down to the floor.

"Oh my god..." I mutter.

My eyes did not deceive me. It was a body alright. A body dangling from the floor, and as of now a motionless wind chime of rags and bones. I cover my mouth and run out the room before I let loose. Zombies are one thing, but seeing people like this is all still difficult to prompt myself with. It's just so horrible. Riley, these people...

I regain stability and walk away from the room after firmly shutting the door. I sigh, making sure my queasiness has passed. All that's left now is to head to the open kitchen that's intrinsically connected to the living room. It's laid across from each other, the living room's left and the kitchen's right being the entryway to this apartment complex.

I sweep through the cupboards and find roaches and mice. I cringe from the sight of them multiplying as I open more panels. With no more tolerance left to offer, I sprint out into the living room and flap my hands violently in revulsion.

"Ew, ew, ew..." I said, repeating the simple mantra several hundred more times.

I involuntarily yelp as one of the mice run across my feet. I jump on the coffee table and quietly curse my frustrations out.

"Fuck, shit..."

I come down and return to the floor, taking a deep breath. I need to focus on searching for any other useful items. I don't have the time, nor the luxury, to be messing around with Tom and Jerry.

I resist the impulse of puking my guts out from where I stood. The smell from these critters did not help at all. Luckily, I find canned foods hidden beside the farthest corner of the last cabinet. It was clever of the survivors to use the unusual acute slant to hide their food.

Admiration aside, I swing open the fridge, the last place I haven't checked. I nearly cry tears of joy. I ignore all the other rotten and moldy cold foods and snatch the jug of water out faster than a millisecond. It's been used moderately to the point where the gallon only has three pints left. That was good enough, water is water.

I place all the things I had found throughout the apartment on the coffee table and begin to work. I carefully pour some water onto the towel I retrieved from the supply closet and scrub my arms, face, and clothes of blood stains. Using several sheets of the toilet paper, I pat my damp clothes dry, as well as wipe off any other blood stains I missed on my skin.

It was refreshing, being able to clean myself off. Not entirely, but enough to not feel disgusted with my own body at the least. I celebrate with opening the salt and vinegar bag of chips. No matter how hard I try, I can't savor it.

I wince in pain. The sting on my shoulder reminds me of the restricted movement on my arm. With just my luck, I used my last first aid kit back on the roof of Mercy Hospital. In other words, I have no other choice but to let this wound heal naturally.

I grumble as I continue chewing on these horribly salty chips.

Being alone wasn't so bad. I guess I underestimated my survival instincts. I mean, look at the effort I put in gathering what I could. This may not be as hard as it seems.

I smirk with confidence.

"You got this girl..." I said.

A small object fell against the chip bag and emits a short, but assertive impact. I look down at the bag and see that it was a drop of liquid.

 _Hmm? Where did that come from?_

I begin to feel it. My nose is running, my vision fogs up, and I start to sniffle uncontrollably.

No no no! No! Now isn't the time for water works! I was starting this lone nomadic journey off right, and now this?!

I drop the bag of chips on the floor. I left everything where they were and walk to the dusty couch. I sit, listening to the cushions creak loudly, and bring my legs close to my chest. Steadily, I lean against my legs and begin to rock back and forth.

"You got this girl..." I said, stammering with every sniffle.

"You got this girl... You got this girl..."

You got this...

Everything's gonna be okay. I'll fight for tomorrow. I promise...


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5** " _Dear Diary II_ "

 **Day 8Z**

Today is probably the worst day ever. We got mugged. Mom and I had our food and supplies stolen. And from our own "friendly" neighbors. How ironic...

All I have left is this diary. I don't care much about anything else, so long as they don't take this away, I will survive and keep moving. If you're wondering, yes, mom and I got ran out of our own house. The very house we were supposed to stay put in and wait for dad and Mike to get back to.

Mom tells me to stop writing in this diary, and throw it away altogether. She doesn't realize she's also indirectly telling me to drop dead and give up. I keep it to myself, and continue to hold on to my diary as we walk from place to place. She pesters me every now and again about it. I couldn't stand it anymore and snapped.

I yelled at her, and asked her about her secretly taking money out from our bank. She was silent after that, and didn't speak a word the rest of that day. Of course I felt shitty afterward.

At the end of the day, she's still my mom. She's all I have left. Well, that I know of. I wonder if dad and Mike made it somewhere safe, and wondering the same thing?

 **. . .**

 **Day 9Z**

I apologized to mom as soon as we both woke up. She smiled at me and told me she was sorry, too. I'm glad we forgave each other. After all, we need to stay together now more than ever.

I notice the deeper we enter the city, the more chaotic it becomes. Broken glass from store displays, people in ski masks same as our neighbors, and countless cries for help mixed with bloody roars. Mom and I sneak through the narrow alleys. Mom also tells me to prevent any of the infected people from biting me. Any bite, any wound, will result in my demise.

I tread with caution.

Mom and I were attacked by some infected people. Mom kills most of them with a nailed plank lying near the garbage, but missed one. Before I could even think, I act without hesitation. I shoulder the infected out of balance and kick him to the ground. I spotted a large rock and immediately picked it up. It was heavy, but I was able to lift it and slam it down onto the infected's head.

That was when I turned back to mom...

 **. . .**

 **Day 18Z**

I nearly lose track of days, however I'm sadly reminded of how long it's been. I'm broken, I still cry from the minute I wake up to the second I fall asleep. I don't know when I'll stop.

It's very hard, having to write this down.

That day, I turned back to mom to see her jumped by a lot of them. They gouged into her body and started tearing her apart. I never heard her scream like that before. All she could do, was tell me to run. Run away as far as I could. Added with the gurgling of blood spat from her mouth, I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave her. I wanted to stay, and try to save her if possible. I knew it was too late, but I still wanted to help.

In the end, I ran like a coward. I trip and bump into things along the way on purpose, slowing myself so I can turn back every now and again to see mom. I didn't want to leave her behind, because I know how it feels watching someone leave and never come back.

That day, my heroic act in protecting mom from that single infected, was in vain.

 **. . .**

 **Day 20Z**

I'm past the breaking point, and wander around looking through empty stores and quiet streets for anything to eat. I even went so far as to pick up that brownie on the road. It was obviously dirty, stepped on and half-eaten. I was desperate, so I didn't care. I was lucky enough to even find it lying there.

Eating food from the ground beats being alone in this barren wasteland.

My stomach still growls. My cheeks grow more defined by the day. I'm hungry.

I've been carefully evading the infected, and fought only when necessary. But as I keep my distance from them, I can't help but watch them eat alongside each other like they never had a meal in years. They ate so happily, like they genuinely enjoyed the taste of flesh. Watching them eat made my mouth water.

I begin to wonder, if it ever came down to it, what would human taste like...

 **. . .**

 **Day 21Z**

I enter further into the city, and stroll around the downtown area. I'm hesitant wherever I go. I see more and more infected as I keep walking, and I don't think giving them the slip would be a guaranteed plan of escape. Running the other way and bumping into a random infected is a possibility, now that I'm in a heavily populated infected territory.

Despite most of the downs of today, I actually made a new friend. He's a real cutie and his name is... actually, I don't know his name. In the meantime, I gave him the temporary name of Mike II, in case we come across his owner. Mike is a tiny golden retriever puppy. When he saw me, he ran to me and licked my hand. That was one of the happiest moments in a long while, since...

I laugh and played with him, but it hurts to laugh or do anything in my weak state.

We quickly got to know each other and hit the road together.

He sleeps on my lap as I write, and warms me from the cold night blowing down on us. Riley, signing out.

 **. . .**

 **Day 22Z**

Today was fun. I taught Mike how to play fetch.

It was also Mike's luckiest day. He and I went shopping in the pet store, with everything 100 percent off. I slash open a bag of dry food and poured it into a bowl for Mike, while retrieving a bowl of water from one of the water bottles in a small well hidden merchandiser fridge. I grab several for myself and chug the first one down. I felt rejuvenated.

Mike and I spend the night here. I felt safe, but I still couldn't sleep. How long was I supposed to keep this up? That's all I could think about. But in all seriousness, how long did I really have to?

And that was when all my worries blew away for the night. The sound of Mike whimpering, and rolling around in his sleep, happily fat and lazing around. I laugh and bring him to my lap again. I make sure to keep Mike safe, too. I'm not losing anyone else. He sleeps soundly as he finds warmth in my body. A tear accidentally falls on his fur, and I quickly wipe my eyes before any more would land on him.

With Mike by my side, I promise to keep fighting for tomorrow. I still need to find others who are willing to help. I still need to introduce him to dad and other Mike, hehe.

Riley, you got this girl...


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6** " _Where Were We..._ "

 **Louis** **...**

The night sang with the voices of the undead. The hum of fire and the shuffle of footsteps walking to no particular destination.

I continue following closely behind Bill as we make our way through another dark alley.

"You sure it was Zoey that fired that shot..?" I said quietly.

Bill creeps close to the corner of the wall and peeks out to scan the area. He hides along the building and turns back to me.

"You know anyone else that's alive in this area that could've fired that gun?" He said.

"Well... no, I guess not..." I said.

Bill nods and darts out the alley, and I remain at the rear, watching both our backs. We sprint forward and into another cast of shadows, treading through countless narrow backstreets to the source of the gunshot. Now, being the glass-half-full member of the group, I don't mean to sound pessimistic in doubting that it could be Zoey. It wasn't like that at all. I'm just being cautious, because if it ends up being someone other than Zoey then what?

Will Bill get shot? Will _I_ get shot? Do we get ambushed by other people or zombies, or both? Like Bill has said many times before, and I keep thinking it over in my mind, anything goes in this world, overrun by this flu.

"Look over there..." Bill murmurs.

He bobs his head toward a certain direction. My eyes trail to it and see a horde of infected circling around an elevated stairwell. Its ladder was noticeably used to a certain extent, but that could've occurred from whenever.

"I bet my left leg Zoey's the one who did that." Said Bill.

"You think..?" I reply.

"I know."

We come out of hiding and circle around the apartment, heading for the entrance of the building.

"Infected on our left..." Bill mutters.

I see them, and I can hear how hungry they are. I halt from trotting, raise my submachinegun in front of my face and aim carefully at one of them. Bill swipes down and ceases my concentration.

I scoff. "What gives...?!" I whisper.

Bill stares at me with a creased frown.

"There's not that many of them, so we'll pick 'em off with some old fashioned CQC."

Bill pulls out the crowbar hanging from his back and throws me the bandaged baseball bat.

"Batter up." Bill smirks.

He turns back around and immediately whacks an infected on the side of its head. I look down at the bat then to the infected that's sprinting toward me. I grit my teeth and begin to run toward it as well.

"Dammit!" I roar.

I lift the bat over my head and swing down forcefully. It slams onto the infected, and makes its head burst like a water balloon. They all drop like flies by the time I realize my grip on the bat grew tighter, and my swings gain more weight with heavy impact after each hit.

We successfully get rid of the few infected wandering the front doors of the scruffy apartment and immediately enter the vicinity. I enter first, and Bill follows closely behind. He swiftly, and carefully, shuts the door and locks it.

I look at the door then to Bill. Not sure if locking it would make a difference, considering most of the middle section is made of glass.

"Um..."

"I know what you're thinkin'..." Said Bill.

Does he..?

"It's still a door, gives us a bit of time to get those two second thoughts rolling. Thinking spontaneously is still thinking after all."

Bill looks to me with his knitted brows pressed together, in his fashionable gentle scowl, as he walks pass me. I lower my head and stare at the stained carpet.

"Come on, let's search the place. We'll start down here then move to the second floor..." Said Bill.

I pick my head back up and nod to him.

We search the small lounge and check for anything useful. We approach the front desk. I slide my hands across the papers and miscellaneous objects, while Bill walks into the backroom of the front desk. I squat down and put my hands and eyes to work. No luck.

I let out a sharp exhale and look over my shoulder to the dark room where Bill lingers.

"I got nothing." I said.

No response from Bill, he continues rustling through things in the dark. I keep at it, too, and search the rest of the drawers of the front desk. Suddenly, I hear the jingle of metal and Bill's footsteps coming out of the back room. I stand up right and turn to him. I raise my brows and shrug at Bill with my hands open in front of me. He raises his hand and drops a set of keys down, dangling it in front of his face.

"Bingo." Said Bill.

"Sweet!" I whisper.

We jerk from the abrupt sound of a putrid hand that bangs against the door of the apartment complex. We snap our necks toward the direction of the noise and notice one of the infected looking in through the glass frame. I quickly take cover under the front desk, and Bill retreats into the back room and out of sight. We wait.

After a couple more minutes of senseless banging on the glass with its palm, the infected grew uninterested and limped away. After waiting a few minutes longer, I slowly poke my head out over the counter. No sign of it. I let out a sigh of relief as I fall back down to the floor while sliding my back against the drawers. Bill comes out of hiding and walks over my legs. He looks to me.

"Come on, we can rest later." He said in a hush tone.

"Alright, alright." I said.

I wave my hand back and forth beside my face and rise to my feet once again. We start down the hall of the first floor.

"So what exactly did you find?" I ask.

Bill looks over his shoulder to me. He turns back and looks at the key in his hand.

"I'm assuming this is a master key..." He mumbles.

"Well, we'll just have to see for ourselves."

We wait around the first door in the hall and try for the lock. Bill inserts the key into the lock, takes a deep breath and slowly turns it. I stand beside him with my fingers crossed. The key turns completely, and unlocks the door. I practically jump in my skin as Bill opens the door to the first tenant's apartment room.

I let out an alleviating short breath.

"Phew..."

"Heh..." Bill hums under his breath.

"...?"

Bill looks to me with a wide smirk on his face.

"Now here's the fun part."

He brings out his crowbar and puts a finger in front of his lips...


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7** _"Safe"_

 **Zoey...**

That was a good cry. I wipe my face of any remaining tears that linger, sniffling every other second. I begin to ease myself and find a comfortable position to sleep on this noisy couch. That's when I hear the sound of footsteps.

My eyes, now wide and awake, shoot in different directions, finally looking toward the door. I quickly get up from the squeaky couch. Trying my best not to make too much noise as I back away from the apartment door, I look over my shoulder to my provisions. I turn back to the source of the sound that echoes from the other side. My trembling finger takes the safety off of my firearm, as my face grows hot with discontent.

With no more room to walk back, I feel the coffee table against my leg as I bump into the teak wood, scooting a couple of things on it. I glance back at my little supplies then immediately turn back to the door. Slowly, but surely, I raise my pistol and aim as I watch the knob turn.

The door opens...

 **Louis...**

"Behind you!"

I point frantically.

Bill quickly turns around and swings violently, hitting a snarling infected. It hits the ground lifelessly, or at least as lifeless as it can already get. Bill sputters with relief and casually swings the crowbar back and forth by his side.

"Nice job, Louis." Said Bill.

I nod to Bill, still wearing a face of angst, then look over to the rest of the infected bastards that are flooding through the entrance of the apartment complex. My eyes grow wide and I anxiously tug on Bill's jacket.

"What now!?" I jabbered.

Bill smacks my hand away and runs to the stairs.

"Stay close!" Said Bill.

We make our way toward the stairs while avoiding the infected. They swipe at us as we slip past them near the shattered glass frame of the building's entrance door. I jump over an infected that we had previously taken care of, and stay close to Bill as he ordered.

The door gives in and they all start to pile in like a flash flood.

My heart races, but my head remains facing forward. God only knows what I'll see if I look back. Bill and I find ourselves at the end of the hall, desperately trying to remain as calm as possible. I watch Bill take out the master key and try for the door on our left. The virals successfully make their way up the stairs and head towards us at full speed.

My breathing quickens, growing raspy and uneven.

"Stuck between two hard places, stuck between two hard places..." I repeatedly whisper loudly.

The lock on the door unlatches.

"Got it!" Said Bill.

Without hesitation, I ram the door open and enter the apartment complex. Bill follows right behind me and slams the door shut. He firmly holds the door and looks back to me.

"Find something to block the door before they-

A putrefied, bony hand breaks through the knob and wildly swipes and claws at us.

"Holy..!" Bill screamed.

I impulsively let out a high-pitched yelp from the hand that sprung out from the other side, and quickly ran to it with my bat over my head. I swing down with all my might, repeatedly smacking it over and over.

"Do. You. Like. That?!" I said, emphasizing every word after each hit.

The hand, now beaten and broken beyond its original state, pulls away and retreats out the hole opening.

"Stop, and get a chair or something!" Said Bill, holding the door with his back.

"To hit it with..?!"

"NO! To barricade the door, come on!"

"Oh." I utter sheepishly.

I temporarily drop the bat on the floor, and look around the room. I grab every single item of all shapes and sizes and pile it around the door. From the two foot tall Hawaiian girl statue, to the lamp pole with visible oily fingerprints, everything was thrown into the pile. While I was preoccupied handling the door's barricade, I hadn't noticed that Bill ran over to the window. After moving nearly everything in the apartment in front of the door, I look over to Bill. He lifts the windowpane, and turns back to me.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Said Bill.

I run over to his side and poke my head out the window. Outside, looking down I witness a massive horde looking up back at us with rage and hunger. They claw at the air, thinking somehow they'll miraculously grab us from all the way down there. Hold up...

I look to Bill with an implausible glower.

"Are we seriously jumping across?!" I said tensely.

"What? No, of course not." Said Bill.

After my heart skipped a beat from Bill's unexpected response, I calm down then smile, and sigh with relief.

"We're going to jump over to the stairwell alongside us."

Bill points to the stairwell, and my eyes pop out of my head as I glare at him. My mouth stays shut, but he knows damn well what I wanted to say to him, given that he simply smirks at me.

"Come on, don't be like that, Harley. It's closer than the roof that's right across from us." Said Bill.

"That's not the point!" I screeched.

First of all, there was barely any room to hang our bodies off the window, at all. Small ledges equal an abrupt and untimely death for one of us, or both of us. Second, we're at an awkward angle to be jumping over to the adjacent stairwell of the apartment building. Despite it being a single window distance away, how are we supposed to build the momentum to jump across with such weird angling?!

"Hey," Said Bill, snapping his finger in my face. "Quit thinking and get to climbing."

I come to and blink my eyes. I shake my head and look to Bill.

"Two second thoughts, remember?" I retorted.

"Yeah, well it's been more than two seconds and you'd already be dead."

The door to the apartment complex is shoved open to a crack, the items in front of the door roll down the tall pile and crash on to the floor. Bill and I twirl our heads and see some of the infected outstretching their arms through the crack. The opening to the doorway gradually widens as I sit and watch in horror.

"Alley-oop!" Bill cried.

I turn back around and see him flying toward the rusty stairwell, landing safely on the platform. The impact from Bill's landing shakes the building, even my fingers could feel the wave of the aftershock. Bill stands from the platform and waves to me.

"Get your ass over here!" He said.

I envy this man's courage.

"O-Okay..!" I stammered.

I take deep breaths and slowly climb out the window and hang from the ledge. My heart beats rapidly.

At that moment, I hesitated.

I'm not sure why, but I couldn't move after getting my body out of that ratchet ass room and out over the crowd of rampant Lady Gaga fans. My ears begin to ring, and my field of vision grows warped...

 **Zoey...**

The door slowly creaks open wider, and I instinctively fire a warning shot at the corner of the ceiling, away from the person's position. It seems to have worked, they let go of the door knob and jump away almost immediately. I tighten the grip on my handgun and increase the concentration of my aim.

"S-Stay back..!" I said.

I curse under my breath. I quickly realize the virals will be rampaging to my location from the sound of my pistol very soon. So much for rational thinking.

"Wait!" He shouts.

"We're not here to hurt you. We're here to help."

I'm immediately aware of the word 'we,' emphasizing it in my head. So there's more than one person, I see.

His calm voice, along with his gentle tone, certainly helps validate his claim. I remain wary of him, though, and how many other people there were beyond the doorway.

I listen to the clink of my gun, ready to fire another bullet from a single, sensitive touch.

"How do I know you're not just bullshitting me..?" I said.

"Ugh, just hurry the hell up and come with us before any of those things discover us! There's more survivors at the safe zone!" A different voice exclaimed.

My body trembles slightly. There was somewhere _safe_ , and with other survivors?

Their footsteps suddenly grow obscure. Within the quiet atmosphere, I hear the sound of rustling cloth being tugged from a person's collar. Their presence fades into the distance. From behind the door, in the middle of the halls, I could hear the abrupt sound of a hard slap. A cry of pain is emitted into the hallway.

"Ow! What the fuck?!" Said the impatient survivor.

"We're trying to _help_ her, not back her into a corner..!" The calm survivor murmured.

"So?! She's not cooperating..!" The impatient survivor retorted.

" _She_ has a god damn firearm in possession! We can get shot at any moment! Besides, no one likes getting yelled at..!"

If they were trying to whisper amongst themselves then they really suck at doing so. I could hear almost every word they were exchanging to each other, arguing like a married couple. As they continue complaining to each other, I sigh and slowly lower my weapon to my side. None of us have the time to think about whether or not we should be working together. After all, those _things_ are outside waiting to get their hands on us, as a team or solo units.

I scratch my head whilst biting the inside of my mouth, remembering the sting of sinking my teeth into my bottom lip as I carefully grind around the swelled up area.

"Um..." I began. "Hey, guys?"

Their chattering stops and the hallway falls silent. I hesitate for a moment then continue.

"I'm going to assume you're listening." I said.

"Look, I guess we got off on the wrong foot. So, let's say I do believe what you're saying is true, then what?"

It remains silent for some time, until the calm survivor speaks up.

"...We'll all head back to the safe zone, where everyone else is waiting for us. My dad's there, too."

I hesitate again, but remember that thinking is now a luxury of the normal world that this one doesn't offer. Two second thoughts, as Bill always told us. I sigh quietly and remain alert with my gun at my side.

"I'm keeping my gun down. You can both come in..." I said aloud.

Dammit, Zoey, don't regret making this choice.

The door slowly creaks open, and enter one, two, three fearful, shaken-up survivors. I swallow my uneasiness and clench my handgun tightly in my hands, just enough to prevent an unintentional discharge.

They all have their hands up, showing no desire to fight. The first to enter wears a stony grimace. If I were to guess whose voice goes with who, he was most likely the calm survivor. His slightly tattered teal plaid shirt with rolled-up sleeves, blood-stained denim stretchy skinny jeans, and grimy black slip-on shoes show signs of having experience many casualties firsthand. His hair was a rosy brown mess, but can be seen to have once been styled as an average spiky comb up. His sandstone brown eyes glint with sadness and determination.

"Thank you..." He says quietly.

I nod then look over to his friends, and begin to analyze them. The one to his right scowls at me firmly. He looked a bit older by several years. His scruffy beard is covered in debris and dried up blood from who knows where. He wore navy coveralls that was half zipped and smeared in oil from top to bottom. A mechanic, perhaps?

The other survivor, who's looking down on at the floor, holds his arms close to his chest. His thumb is pressed against his lower lip. He was quiet, and seems to have a reserved behavior overall. Nothing too unique about him aside from his unusual silence, and a standard NPC's clothing choice.

The guy with the plaid shirt swings his hand down toward me. I flinch and swiftly raise my firearm. He quickly retreats and steps away.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" He said, his hands quivering in front of his body rapidly.

"I-I was just reaching out for a handshake! I didn't mean to-

"You can get to know me just fine from there." I said with implied caution.

He looks to me, carefully pondering what to say next.

"Of course, I'm sorry." He murmurs.

I obviously put his friends on edge as well, from the looks of it, what with them hunching themselves and preparing to bolt. The quiet one seems to be more frightened than the other two, shaking like a leaf.

"What's with him..?" I said, pointing my gun at mister mime.

The supposed leader of the group looks over his shoulder at the trembling guy. He turns back to me and speaks up.

"Henry? He..." He said, clearing his throat.

"He doesn't speak. He's mute."

Ah, well that makes sense, somewhat. So that leaves the possibility of the other voice I heard earlier from outside the room...

"You have to forgive my friends. They're a bit jumpy from all the zombies we had to kill to get here. Oh, and the guy you see to my right, that's Rick." Said the leader.

I look to Rick, and see he's still giving me the same intense scowl. He sighs with his eyes closed and gives a simple wave of his hand.

"Yeah, hey." He said with a brief exhale out his nose.

"Charmed." I said sarcastically.

"Don't be too hard on Rick here. Without him, I don't think Henry would've tagged along if it were just me." The plaid shirt leader chuckled.

"That's right. I don't know much, _but I know enough_." Said Rick, simultaneously signing the latter half of his sentence.

I raise an impressed brow.

"That's... pretty awesome you know sign language." I said sincerely.

"Well, when you come from a family with people that have hearing problems or giving you the eternal silent treatment, it's pretty useful to know a word or two." Said Rick.

I nod to Rick with fascination. "Cool." I grinned softly.

I clear my throat and turn my attention back to mister plaid shirt.

"And you are..?" I said squinting my eyes like I were focusing my sights at their leader.

"Oh, my name's Michael." He said, pointing to himself with a cheerful smile.

Oh..? For a second there I thought he could have-

"But most people call me Mike."

My eyes unconsciously grow wide from hearing that.

"And your name..?" Said Mike.

I stare blankly at them, mostly at Mike. It couldn't be...

I glance over at the journal I left beside the couch. I look back to Mike and his friends. It's impossible, there's just no way.

Mike looks to me confusingly.

"Um..." He said. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Mike..?" I mutter.

"Uh, yes?" Mike stammered.

"As in, Riley..."

It was if his whole world had crumbled from hearing me speak that name. His pupils dilate, and his eyes begin to grow more damp. Compulsively, with most of his might, he grabs me by the shoulders and stares into my eyes with a glum expression.

"How do you know that name?" Said Mike.

It was obvious from the look on his face. Asking me every question that's on his mind without having to say a single word. _Where's Riley? Where's his mom? Are they safe? What happened to them?_

I escape Mike's grasp and bury the side of my face against his chest, closing the gap between us.

"I'm sorry." I whimper.

I shake my head left and right, while wrapping my arms around his torso as I initiate a hug.

"I'm so sorry, I..." I said solemnly.

I take a few steps back to give Mike and me some space. I start to choke up, shocked from this miraculous encounter.

"I didn't expect to meet you so soon." I smiled glumly, sniffling after every other word.

"My," Said Mike. "My sister... my mom?"

His bottom lip quivers with an overwhelming sadness. I look down at the floor and shake my head.

"I don't know if I should..." I mumbled.

I remember the couch and what lies beside it, and walk over to Riley's journal and pick it up. I return to Mike with the journal and hand it to him.

"This may answer your questions." I said.

Mike takes the journal and begins to read it. It was safe to assume how he felt, however I couldn't say for sure since he walked away and over to the cracked open window next to the bloodied bed. He was engrossed in Riley's journal entries.

"Hey, Mike..!" Said Rick.

I snap my head to Rick and Henry. They were looking at the door, more specifically the noise that was coming from outside the halls. The two walk back and retreat to my position, and I raise my firearm toward the doorway.

 _More people to deal with?_

A bead of sweat trickles down my face. I close one eye and concentrate on my aim with the other. My mind whirls in circles wondering who it could possibly be this time.

The sound of their footsteps grow quiet, but not because they stopped walking toward us, but simply because of whose footsteps they belonged to. My ears grow muffled with solace, only being able to hear a high pitched whistle. I couldn't believe my eyes. My gun drops to my waist, and my legs grow weak from its uncontrollable trembling. Tears start trickling down my cheeks the second I sprint to them. I make my way to them with open arms and hug the old man tightly around his waist. He caresses the back of my head and rests his chin on the top. I could hear him let out a big sigh of relief.

"Did you miss us?" Said Bill.

 _Yeah, I did._


End file.
